The Faerie Bond
by ReisDular
Summary: Since the night she ran the Labyrinth Sarah has lived a life relatively free of magic and the Fey. However, the Fair Folk are the only ones she finds she can turn to when the barren adult Sarah wants a baby. But can anyone really trust the Faeries?
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I neither have nor claim any affiliation with the Jim Henson company or Lucas films. All characters are property to their creators, none of which are me.

Note for the reader: It's been a long while since I've written something like this. Please forgive me if it feels a bit blocky at times. This story was inspired by Heather Dale's song "Changeling Child". Please enjoy your read.

The Faerie Bond

Sarah's hands trembled as she lowered the letter they held to her lap. Her face was pale and tight, alerting the man who stood across from her to the letter's ill content. In two strides he was before her and he snatched up the letter. She did not even blink as he did or look up as his brown eyes scanned the content of the letter. With a growl of aggravation the letter was crumpled in his hands and hurled across the room as though it, a mere piece of paper, could do some significant damage to whatever it collided with and in that way alleviate the pain of the woman who sat on the couch, her face now buried in her hands, or him who now ran his fingers back through his hair.

"I'm sorry," the woman finally said as her hands lowered. There may have been more forthcoming but the man cut her off.

"God damn it, Sarah! Stop apologizing," he snapped at her. She pressed her lips together into a thin line. "It's not your fault. At least not _this_ time."

Sarah stood from the couch, her brows slanting down sharply in anger, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

The man swept a hand sharply away from himself, a dismissive gesture, "Never mind! Just never mind!"

"No," Sarah retorted, her voice deep and thick with sarcasm. "Tell me what you mean? Are you referring to last year when we were turned down by the four adoption agencies? Or the year before that when the IVF didn't take? Or the _three years_ before that when we couldn't get pregnant on our own? Is _that_ what is my fault?"

"Jesus, you just _can't_ let shit go can you, Sarah?" Her husband responded as he stormed away from her. She followed.

"_I _ don't let shit go? _I_ don't?" She demanded, gesturing emphatically toward herself despite the fact that he was turned away from her. "You're the one _blaming_ me for our not being able to have a baby. The last time I checked it was _our_ fault not _my_ fault. What happened to being in this together? What happened to not giving up?"

He spun around, his hand on the doorknob of the front door, "I'm not giving up," he said, his voice calm and emotions collected. "I'm going to work." He slammed the door open, making Sarah flinch from the jarring contrast between his voice and his actions, and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut again behind him.

As soon as she heard the car pull out of the driveway, Sarah broke down weeping. Crying was something she felt she could no longer do in front of her husband of nearly six years. It wasn't that the crying itself made him angry; it was that he was completely powerless to change the situation which made her cry. There had been a time when she would cry and he would put his arms around her and they would cry together and promise each other they would overcome the hard road to parenthood they faced. Now he just got angry, and his anger made her defensive and angry. Now they just yelled at each other or didn't talk at all.

Sarah moved back into the living room and picked up the crumpled paper to uncrumple and smooth it out. It was a letter of apology, hand written which, Sarah felt in her pained numbed mind, was at least thoughtful of the girl who had been Sarah's last chance at being a mother. The girl was in high school and had gotten pregnant. She'd privately sought out a couple to give her baby to and had found Sarah. Now the girl was having second thoughts, wanted to keep the baby for her own.

Sarah closed her eyes and let the letter fall from her hands. She left the living room, her feet taking her upstairs on autopilot as her mind raced through a myriad of emotions. She couldn't say in good conscious that she blamed the young woman. Sarah wanted a child so badly, how could she fault any woman who wanted to keep her own baby? She was carried into the bathroom by her feet, undressed by her hands which also very kindly turned on the shower for her. She stood beneath the falling water, her forehead pressed against the tiled wall. Her thoughts running again and again through everything she and her husband had tried in order to have a child: natural conception, artificial insemination, in vitro fertilization, adoption, _private_ adoption. Nothing was working. Nothing panned out.

Sarah stepped out of the shower. Sometime in the midst of her thoughts she had actually managed to clean herself. She wrapped a towel around her body and wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror with one hand. She stared at her reflection but didn't really see herself. She touched the mirror's surface.

There was one thing that she hadn't tried.


	2. Part 2

The Faerie Bond

One thing she had not tried. One thing she had pushed to the back of her mind over and over for six long years, but now she was desperate. She climbed the hill with determination in her heart and in her face. She no longer cared where this path would lead.

She heard their music, even before she saw the stones. They stood up straight and tall, reaching for the sky nearly as high as the trees around them. They stood just inside a massive ring of large white mushrooms and Sarah knew immediately she had found what had sought in coming here, for the monoliths hummed with a magic which was not natural to this forest.

Sarah closed her eyes and steadied herself. She was taking a huge risk in coming here, she knew, but she could not turn back now. With a muttered apology she crossed the barrier created by the Fairy Ring. It felt something like walking through a spider's web. Magic clung to her like spindly threads, trying to hold her back but unable. Passing the second barrier created by the Standing Stones, however, was much different. Their power grasped at her with what felt like long fingers of terrible strength, trying to pull her back even as they tried to pull her forward. The sensation was nauseating, but still she pushed onward, the fire of determination never leaving her eyes. Finally the magic of the Standing Stones released her and she stepped into the green realm of the Fair Folk.

She could see them, after a fashion, and hear their music clear as bells. They danced like shadows across her vision, big and small, tall and short all manner of Fey from the Seelie Court. They turned and watched her and whirled past her, they closed in on her and bounded away. She braced herself, ready to feel their hands upon her, striking her, their voices rebuking her for it was a great insult to cross into their revelry uninvited and unannounced. But they did not attack her; they did not touch or harm her. She passed between them as they danced. She was not certain just what it was she was looking for but she felt she would know when she found it, and so she slipped through the shadows of the host as they reveled in their magic and their freedom and rejoiced in the wild, unfettered things of the earth.

All at once she came upon it and it made her stop dead in her tracks for she did not at first perceive it, and then in the space between heartbeats it was there. It was like a flower and it was great and small all at once. The petals were unfurled in such a way that they seemed to form a chair and within the heart of it there was a blinding radiance, so bright and wonderful and at the same time so strange and terrible that Sarah had to look away.

"Do not turn away, Mortal," called a voice of a woman that was as cold and stern as a winter's day and yet like standing in the sun. "You have intruded upon our revelry and sought me out, so speak but be forewarned I shall be displeased if it is for a trifling thing that you have trespassed among us."

Sarah turned back, feeling like a child before the woman who sat upon the throne. She lowered her gaze in deference, "Fairy Queen," she began, "my name is Sar-"

"Girl, do not waste my time. I know who you are. There are few among us who do not. Now tell me why it is you have come."

Sarah's eyes widened and her mind stumbled for a moment over questions and utterances of incredulity, but she ground them to a halt. The reason she had come was far more important.

"I've come to beg for your help, Fairy Queen," she pleaded, her hands clasping before her. "For six years I've tried to have a baby of my own, but I can't. I've tried every possible way there is in my world and nothing will work. You're my only chance now, please. Give me a baby."

The Fairy Queen seemed unimpressed by Sarah's display of emotion, "Is that all? Truly? Your request is uninspired. I would have expected more from one who could best a king of our Realm. Then again the request that called upon him was just as ordinary for one of your kind."

Again Sarah was surprised. Though that time was far behind her she remembered quite acutely the incident in which her brother had been snatched away by the Fair Folk. That time was what had cemented a belief in her which had, until that moment, been fueled by simple innocence, childhood fancy, and a desire to believe. It was the only reason she, a modern woman living a modern life in the modern world, even knew to consider seeking out a Fairy Ring and listening for the music of the Fey. She had had no idea, however, that others of the Faerie Realm would know of the defeat of the Goblin King. Truthfully she had not even known that defeating his Labyrinth was so noteworthy.

"I know it's not very original," Sarah responded at length, "but a baby is all I ask for, it's all I want. Please."

"You Humans are a simple bunch. Your needs are all the same: wealth, power, love, a child to call your own. I cannot tell you how many barren women of your ilk have stood before me, begging for the same thing you are begging now."

"Then it cannot be a wish so difficult to grant!" Sarah retorted. The Fairy Queen's eloquent manner of speech seemed to influence Sarah's choice of words, but if it helped her to get through to the Fey being she did not care.

The Fairy Queen touched a long, delicate finger to her chin in thought, "Are you certain you would not rather something else? You Humans, your wants are so base and predictable. Are you sure you would not be equally happy with wealth, a position of influence," she smiled ever so slightly, "a lover?"

Sarah was taken aback, "I have a husband! I don't need a lover!"

The Fairy Queen's smile became knowing, as though she could see right through Sarah. The thought was disquieting to the mortal woman.

"Do not attempt to hide your unhappiness from me. We may not be of the same race, but we are still women. Can you say with all truth that you are happy with the man you have chosen? It is within my power to find and present you with your true love."

Sarah pressed her lips together in a tight frown, her brows knitted together with suppressed anger, "Please," she spoke, as politely as she could muster, "I don't want riches, or power, or love. I just want a baby," her voice became soft and her eyes moist. "That's all I want, just a baby. Boy or girl, it doesn't matter. I just want a baby."

The Fairy Queen seemed to sigh, though no such sound escaped her, "Very well, if it is a baby that you want then it is a baby that you shall have," Sarah's face brightened at the Fairy Queen's words, but the queen continued on. "However, do not make the mistake to assume that this is a gift, my magic is not free. There will be a price."

Were she not aware of the cruelty the Fey were capable of, Sarah would have agreed in a heartbeat without any thought to the consequence. Even with her knowledge it took a bit of effort to quell the elation which welled up within her enough to cautiously respond, "What's the price?"

The Fairy Queen's smile became cruel, "The first: You shall never again set foot into our Realm. If you do your life, and that of the babe, shall be forfeit. The second: Should ever you bear a child of your own, it shall belong to the Fey."

Sarah swallowed nervously and thought on this. While she had absolutely no intention of ever returning to the realm of Faerie she couldn't be entirely certain that it would not happen again. Sometimes the realm of the Fey could just sneak up on you. She had lived a relatively quiet and magic free life, but that did not mean that she had never seen the Elven Folk when the veil between worlds thinned.

"What if I have no control—"

"No excuses," The Fairy Queen commanded. "You will abide by this stipulation or face the consequences!"

Sarah frowned and considered. She had lived this long and only ever entered the Faerie Realm twice, both times by choice. The Fairy Queen was right; she should not have a problem with the first clause. The second, she lifted a hand and placed it over her belly, was what truly gave her pause. Her uterus was healthy, that was what all the doctors said. Her husband was also healthy, they had said that too. They were not unique, their situation was not uncommon. Sometimes couples simply could not have children. They had tried together so hard for six years. What were the chances of their situation ever changing? All the doctors they had seen had sadly told them the possibilities were very slim. However, even if there were the slightest chance.

Sarah gave a decisive nod, "I agree," she said. The Fairy Queen grinned. The Fairy Queen could not know that there were medicines in Sarah's world to protect against having children. The chances were slim, yes, but they were still there. She could take the precaution. She would have her child and could make sure that she never had another for the Fairies to steal away.

The queen made a regal motion with one elegant hand and the already magically charged air of the green became even more oppressive with magic around Sarah. She choked and the magical force sank into her, stealing away her breath until she was certain she would pass out and that the Fairy Queen had somehow deceived her. The awful pressure dissipated as suddenly as it had appeared, but the confused Sarah could still feel it somehow within her.

"Our pact is magically sealed," the Fairy Queen explained. She gave another elegant flick of her hand and before Sarah there appeared a basket. Something moved within it and, though Sarah was already sure she knew what it contained, she bent over to move the blanket. Sarah gasped softly with joy at the sight of the beautiful baby that lay asleep within. She gathered up the basket and held it tightly to her breast.

"Thank you," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

The Fairy Queen waved a hand in boredom, "Go now," she commanded. "And do not forget your agreement."

Sarah nodded her head, "I'll remember," she responded. She turned quickly and dashed back the way she had come, as though the Fey Folk could, at any moment, turn on her and take the child away. However, the Fey of the Seelie Court are honourable and none tried to impede her on her way out.

The Fairy Queen watched as the mortal woman plunged headlong through the veil which separated the world within the Standing Stones from the mortal realm outside and disappeared from the world of the Fey altogether. She turned her head slightly though did not look over her shoulder at the man who appeared just behind her throne.

"Are you satisfied, Jareth?"

"I am indeed, Titania," the Goblin King replied and she could hear the cold smile in his voice. "I am indeed."

"Do not forget your promise."

"Do not forget yours."

* * *

><p>Notes to the Reader:<p>

In the traditional folk lore the Fairy Queen is not given a name, unlike her male counterpart Oberon. However, in the 1500s William Shakespeare gave her the name Titania for his play "A Midsummer Night's Dream". In writing this chapter I wished to tread on the side of Tradition (especially considering the name Titania is rooted in the Greek word Titan which entirely perverts her Irish roots) and continue to give her no name other than The Fairy Queen. However, as I was finishing the chapter, she insisted on addressing the Goblin King by name which would only prompt him to address her by name in return.


	3. Part 3

The Faerie Bond

Sarah's home rang with joy and sweet laughter. Her husband bounced their baby boy upon his knee and the baby burbled and kicked with joy. Sarah was happier now than she ever remembered herself being. Her marriage was saved, and with the child her joy was complete. She felt as though nothing would hurt her ever again.

Then, just as everything seemed to have suddenly gone right, things changed, and everything went suddenly, horribly wrong.

The new parents quickly realized that something was not quite right with their child. At six months he was still fitting into all his old clothes. At a year he had not grown an inch or gained a pound. Sarah was the first to notice. As a young woman she had taken care of her younger brother Toby and knew just how fast babies grew. However, she was so desperate not to believe it that she forced it to the back of her mind and just didn't think about it. It was always there though, niggling at her, waking her in the middle of the night with feelings of nausea and dread.

It was not until two years had passed that her husband finally seemed to figure out that something was wrong, and he seemed to realize it all at once. Or perhaps he too had just been pushing down the truth of it. He came into the kitchen one morning as Sarah was giving the baby its bottle and just stared at the child for a moment. Sarah saw the way he looked at the child and she felt the pit fall out of her stomach. She put on a smile in spite of it, determined to distract her husband.

"Sarah," he said before she could even venture her quickly but carefully crafted distraction, "there's something not right about the baby."

"What do you mean?" Sarah responded, her tone flippant as she tried to brush off her husband's concerns. He did not buy it. In fact it only seemed to alert him more to the issue.

"Sarah, it's been two years and he's still on the bottle?"

Sarah, who was turned away from him as she made breakfast, bit at her lip. Panic began to well up inside of her, "So? That's not unusual," she countered lamely.

"Not unusual?" He responded flatly. "Well what about this: he hasn't grown an inch since we got him. He's still wearing onesies for Christ's sake."

"Don't be silly," Sarah said with a laugh that sounded too forced, even to her own ears.

"Silly? I'm being silly?" Her husband strode toward her and forcibly turned her around.

"H-hey! What are you—"

"_Look_ at him, Sarah! He can't walk, he can't eat solid food, he hasn't even _tried_ to form words," he released his wife and stepped back from her, giving her a suspicious and penetrating look. "What the hell is wrong with him, Sarah? I know you know something."

"Why would I know anything? I don't _know_ anything!" Sarah shouted defensively, and knew immediately that she'd done the absolute wrong thing as she watched her husband's suspicions turn into beliefs written plainly across his face. She scrambled to cover up but it was already too late.

"Sarah, what the hell is _wrong_ with it!"

"There is nothing wrong with him!" Sarah screamed back. "He is perfect! He's exactly," Sarah choked, horrible realization suddenly gripping her with cold, icy fingers, "he's exactly what we asked for."

"What we asked for? What we asked for?" She suddenly grabbed her. She winced and tried to jerk away from his vice grip as she jerked her around to face the baby. "What _I_ asked for was healthy _normal_ baby. Does that _thing_ look _normal_ to you, Sarah? Is that normal?"

"So he's different!" Sarah cried, jerking her arm out of her husband's grasp. "So what? He's still ours. He's healthy and he's happy!"

"He doesn't grow!"

"He's just behind! Underdeveloped or something! He'll catch up!"

"Damn it, Sarah!"

Her husband slept in the guest bed room that night, and she fell asleep weeping and cursing Faerie kind.

The next year was as rocky as the last year before getting the baby had been. Her husband constantly hounded her about the child, where had had come from, who his parents were, what his medical history was. Sarah couldn't answer any of his questions which only made him angrier and more resentful. Sarah couldn't tell her husband that the baby came from the Fey. He already knew there was something wrong with the baby she couldn't have him thinking she was completely off her rocker now as well, he'd have her locked up and then what would happen to the child. Sarah already knew in her heart of hearts what was coming, but that didn't stop it from being any less painful.

Four years after the baby's arrival it still hadn't grown an inch or said a word. Sarah was in the kitchen preparing dinner in the slow, unfocused manner she had adopted since their arguments began again. Her husband stepped into the kitchen and she heard something set down on the linoleum floor with a thunk. She snapped back to herself and called over her shoulder,

"Dinner'll be ready in a few."

"Sarah," Her husband said then paused. Something in his voice chilled the woman to her core and she slowly turned to look at her husband. He had set a packed suitcase down on the floor and his face was a mask of resignation. "I'm leaving, Sarah."

"But—"

"No. Stop. Just listen, I don't want to argue anymore. I'm done with that now. We both know this just isn't working anymore. This shi-situation is just too strange." He picked up his suitcase.

"No! Please don't do this. We can figure out—"

"Look, Sarah. I'm not changing my mind," he turned and began walking through the house to the front door. Sarah followed him. "I just wanted to tell you outright. You deserved that much. Nothing's going to change. It's been four years and I just can't deal with this."

Sarah began shaking her head in denial uttering words like, "No," and "Wait," and "Please" but never stringing together anything coherent.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," he said. He gave her one last look, full of resignation and regret. Finally he sighed and turned to walk out the door.

Sarah was still shaking her head as the car's engine turned over and roared to life in the drive way. She was still shaking her head as the car backed out and pulled away. She shook her head until she could no longer hear the sound of their car speeding down the street, then she stopped shaking her head and buried her face in her hands. She let out a long, high keening sound and sank to her knees then doubled over, her forehead touching the floor, the horrible wail not once ceasing.


	4. Part 4

The Faerie Bond

She climbed and climbed. There didn't seem to be an end to the hill side as she attempted to scale it. She didn't remember it being this high either. She continued to climb and as she did she stumbled and fell to the ground, one hand instinctively shooting out to break her fall. Electricity shot up her thighs and up her arm where her knees and hand had hit the ground. The knees of her jeans would be grass stained, perhaps torn, she knew, and she was fairly certain that something sharp hidden in the grass had cut the heel of her palm. That did not stop her from scrabbling up the hill side on hand and knees. Her free arm protectively clutched her baby to her chest though it was secured to her body in a little sling.

This time as she climbed she heard no music from beneath the ground. There were no stones reaching for the tree tops. The silence clenched her heart in horror, yet still she scrabbled her way up the hill. Finally her eyes found the crest of the hill in the moonlight and she let out a gasp of relief as her eyes spied the large white mushrooms. They seemed almost to glow in the light of the full moon that hung pregnant in the sky overhead. Sarah kneeled outside of the ring, catching her breath as she studied the hilltop. Her face was full of confusion. The Fairy Ring was there but the Standing Stones were gone. Did that mean that the Fairy Queen was not here? Did that mean the Fair Folk had abandoned this place all together?

Sarah's gulps for air became shallow, panicked gasps. The fairies couldn't be gone, she thought. They simply could not be gone. It had taken her so long to find _this_ place how could they be gone?

The woman jumped to her feet in frenzy, "Fairy Queen!" She cried out. "Answer me! Please!"

There was no response from beneath the fairy mound. Sarah screamed out her frustration and began circling the outside of the Fairy Ring calling all the while,

"Fairy Queen! I beg you, please answer me!" but there was no response.

The night grew colder and the wind that had been a breeze was picking up from the west. Sarah circled the Fairy Ring again and again. Just why, she was not certain except that she felt she was drawn to do it and doing it eased her mind though not enough to keep her from crying out entreaties to the Queen of the Fairies.

She circled the ring nine times before she finally came to a stop. She wrapped her arms around and hunched over the baby against her chest, protecting him from the whipping wind that stung her own eyes. After a moment her head slowly lifted. Her brows were knitted together in concentration. She wasn't certain but over the sound of the wind she thought she could hear the sound of a single wooden flute.

"Hello?" Sarah called out, her voice hoarse from screaming into the wind. "Are you there? Please listen to me."

The flute continued to play.

And then she heard something else, something that caused her already numb and shivering body to quake. It was like a laugh, but it hissed at the ends and while it was light hearted it was also laced with malice. Sarah's head snapped from left to right, her eyes wide in fear. She spun around to look behind. The sound of the flute rose in pitch and fervor. The laugh sounded again. It wasn't just one creature that laughed, she realized. It was many.

"Who's there?" she called out.

Something moved in her peripheral vision and Sarah jerked around just in time to see dark, lumpy shapes hurry between the trees through the moonlight. The notes of the flute sounded in a quick, meaningless frenzy. The harsh sound circled about her, as the wind whipped her hair. She should not be here, she thought. She had to leave.

She took a step back and what happened next happened so suddenly, and she was so distracted by what was in the trees and the cacophony of the flute that she could not react until it was far too late. Something rushed her. She was not sure later whether it was something large or small or something in between but it rushed her from the side and collided with her bodily. She stumbled and flung out a hand, her eyes going wide with shock. She tried to grasp for the thing that had struck her but there was nothing. Her arms pin wheeled to keep her balance as she fell back. With horror she recognized the grasp of spidery magic as she fell to through the barrier created by the Fairy Ring. She let out a short scream.

Everything was calm. Thunder sounded in the distance, but it was muted. Neither it nor the wind touched this Other world. The song of the flute became melodic and it was closer now. It sent a shiver up Sarah's spine. There was something familiar about the melody, but at the same time not. As though someone had taken a song from her childhood and reworked it so that it caused a feeling of dread to settle in the pit of her stomach. Sarah clutched her baby to her chest.

The sound of the flute stopped and there was a pregnant pause.

"Hello, Sarah."

Sarah gasped slightly and whipped around. The man who addressed her sat upon a strange throne that seemed to be draped with a dark cloth. He lounged in it, twirling a reed flute between his fingers. He was dressed in shades of white and grey that had an effect of stoicism on his appearance, but his face of otherworldly features grinned at her with mirth and malice. His hair was blond, or was it silver?, and framed his face in a spikey, wild sort of way.

Sarah knew she knew this man. Memories of Toby and the Labyrinth came back to her. Her memory of him specifically was so dim, blurred, whether by magic or time she had no idea, but that didn't stop her from suddenly blurting out,

"You're the Goblin King."

"Am I?" The Goblin King responded, and looked around as if someone else might be in the vicinity. When he looked back to her it was with an expression of annoyance. "You always did have a knack for stating the obvious, didn't you, Sarah?" He stood from the throne with a flourish of legs and arms and white cloth. The flute was gone from his hand.

"What do you want from me?" Sarah asked, fear outweighing her indignance. "I came to speak to the Fairy Queen."

The Goblin King spread out his arms and turned slightly to either side, "As you can see she is not here," he let his arms drop. "There is just me," he grinned, "and my Goblins."

"I need to see the Fairy Queen. I need to speak to her."

"I'm afraid not, Sarah," The Goblin King replied, suddenly very interested in his gloves. "You see, I'm afraid you've broken your contract."

"No!" Sarah practically shouted. "That's wrong! The Fairy Queen didn't fulfill her half of the bargain so that contract is void!"

"You agreed," the Goblin King continued, heedless of Sarah's outburst, "that, should you break your contract, your life and the life of your child would be forfeit, and it has been. To me."

Sarah clutched the bundle that was her child closer to her chest and the Goblin King smirked.

"Oh come now, Sarah. You're not really still hugging that _thing_ are you?"

The woman bristled, "He's not a thing! He's my baby!"

"Is he? Perhaps you should look again," replied the Goblin King with a face of mock seriousness and a nod toward the sling.

Sarah's brows came together in worry, for she knew what the Goblin King was capable of, and looked down into her sling. The weight was familiar but there was something suddenly odd and cumbersome about the child she carried. Sarah hurriedly peeled back the blanket, horror griping her stomach like an icy vice. She screamed. Out of the blankets tumbled a thick head of dark, leafy green cabbage. It landed on the ground with a thunk and the Goblin King let out a dark, full bodied laugh, his lips pulling back in his mirth to display all his sharp, white teeth.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Sarah cried. She felt as though she was going to be sick. "Bring him back!" she sobbed. "Bring me back my baby!"

The Goblin King ceased to laugh, his features snapping back into cold disdain, "Sarah," he said, and his voice was like a warning to get her attention. He continued slowly, as though she were someone to whom one must take great care in explaining the simplest of principles. "That _was_ your baby, Sarah." His demeanor changed yet again and Sarah felt like she was going to have some kind of emotional whip lash. He now tutted at her softly, "Sarah, Sarah. I thought I had taught you better than that while you were in my labyrinth. As your host I am ashamed of myself. Truly. How could you have spent ten hours in my labyrinth and never learned the _importance_ of words."

"What are you talking about?" Sarah shouted her voice pained.

The Goblin King's face grew feral, "Foolish little girl. You asked the Fairy Queen for a baby. You didn't specify what _kind_ of baby. In fact I believe your words were 'it doesn't matter'."

"But—but—" Sarah groped about in her mind for some logical argument to refute the Goblin King and prove that she was in the right, not the Fairy Queen. That it was the Fairy Queen that had broken their contract not Sarah herself.

Her mouth opened and closed helplessly. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known. She _had_ known! How had she fallen into the same trap as every other stupid woman in every single fairy tale she had ever read?

"I see you finally understand," The Goblin King said. His tone was smooth and silky, nearly inviting. He held out a hand to her, "Now come, Sarah."

Sarah wrapped her arms around her shoulders and glared at the Goblin King suspiciously. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, though now she made no sound to accompany her sorrow, "What?"

The Goblin King sighed and flared his fingers slightly, "I told you. Your life belongs to me now." His tone became slightly softer, "But don't be troubled. You won't become a goblin. I have something else in mind for you, Precious."

Sarah leaned away slightly, suddenly wary of the possessive expression in the Goblin King's eyes. His fingers flared again,

"You do not have a choice, Sarah," He said sternly. "You have nothing waiting for you in the world you are leaving behind. Think of it, Sarah. You can return to an empty life of broken dreams or you can come with me to my Labyrinth. You will have everything you ever wished for, Sarah, and more."

"If I don't have a choice," Sarah said suddenly, "then why are you trying to convince me."

The Goblin King bore his teeth slightly, "Because I am a gentleman, Sarah. Or would you rather I dragged you down against your will? It could be arranged."

He retracted the hand he held out to her and snapped his fingers. At his command Sarah was surrounded by a score of goblins, short and tall and dirty, who grabbed her with strong hands and boney fingers. They laughed their hissing laugh at her and she screamed. Sarah struggled to pull herself out of the clutches of the goblins but they were too many and too strong. As she fought, the Goblin King talked, as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

"Of course if you choose this way then I probably will just turn you into a goblin," He sighed a long suffering sigh. "I am disappointed, Sarah. After all this time I had hoped you would have become a bit more sensible. Oh well." He lifted his hand,

"Wait!" cried, Sarah. "Wait! I'll go with you!"

The Goblin King's brows lifted, "Oh? Changed our mind have we?" He dismissed the goblins with a flick of his wrist and Sarah and he were suddenly alone again.

Sarah bowed her head, "You're right…about my not having anything. All I had was…" she gestured down at the cabbage, unable to call it her baby anymore. She looked away, her eyes closing tightly. "I did learn something in your labyrinth, Goblin King," she continued. Her voice was soft and heavy with defeat. "I learned I needed to grow up. I learned I needed to be responsible. Your goblins shoved me in…but I never should have been here to begin with." She looked up at the Goblin King, "So I'll go with you."

The Goblin King looked mildly surprised. He held out his hand again and Sarah slowly lifted her hand to lay within his. The Goblin King's face split into a wide grin, too many of his sharp, white teeth showing.

"You have made the right choice, Precious, and it only took you twelve years."

Sarah's brows came together in confusing, "What?"

The Goblin King's grin became wider, more feral, "Out of curiosity do you recall the second stipulation to your contract with the Fairy Queen?"

"What?" Sarah screeched.

"Oh good."

The echo of Sarah's scream rang out into the night and lightning cracked overhead, followed by a rumble of thunder. The Goblin King and Sarah disappeared in the flash, followed only by the hissing laughter of goblins.

The End

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><p>Note to the Reader: I've had a couple of requests to continue this story, but I don't wish to ruin, what I feel is, a perfectly good stand alone piece if the sentiment isn't a widely held one. Write a review and tell me how you feel.<p> 


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